A/N: This is going to be my second to last entry for this story. Thanks a lot for the positive reviews and keep'em coming ).

Disclaimer: I don't own the Rainbow Six or Splinter Cell franchises…

December 10, 2007

The White House, Washington, D.C.

Lambert had met with the President before, and today was like any other. In the "War Room" sat the President, the JCOS, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of Homeland Security, National Security Advisor, the DDCIA and the DNI; the Attorney General was currently in the bathroom. Even the Secretary of Energy was present; the only person conspicuously missing was the Secretary of State, who was currently on a four day mission across Europe and the Middle East. On a nearby screen, the WNM news anchor read in his monotone voice the events of the day.

"What's the status on Indian Point?" the POTUS asked tiredly.

"The reactor is practically dead. They have the situation under control but we still don't know if we can prevent a meltdown. Even if we can, it's going to be a long time to get it up and running like normal."

"Beautiful," President Bowers said sarcastically. "Can we confirm the reports about the terrorist leader being captured by INTERPOL? John?"

This time, the Director of National Intelligence spoke up. "We have reason to believe that there may be more to this story than what we're getting from INTERPOL. Colonel Lambert, mind showing them what your men found?"

"Thank you, sir. Mr. President, we recently ran an operation in the same Turkish military base where the terrorist leader and his accomplices were captured. We wanted to investigate if our suspect, Lieutenant Colonel Ewari, was answering to someone higher up; this proved to be an incorrect assumption… Sort of. My operative on the ground recorded this conversation."

Lambert took a DVD out of his folder and inserted it into a nearby player. On an LCD projector, the entire conversation and eventual confrontation played out in front of the men in the War Room. "As you saw, the director of operations for INTERPOL was in cahoots, so to speak, with our terrorist, our arms dealer's successor, and our go between. Jin Mao didn't survive his injuries. Ewari is likely to be charged by the Turkish government with treason and likely be killed. And our "mastermind," Marouf bin Aziz, is currently in a jail cell in Poland since the first crime they could officially link him to was the truck bomb that killed Iosef Yanovalinko."

"What's going to happen to Frenaux?" The President questioned.

This time, the Attorney General answered, having finally returning from the men's room. "Absolutely nothing. In all likelihood, this man will get a medal from every nation affected by the crisis and the world will spin on like normal. He'll probably also get a promotion, since this is just the kind of thing INTERPOL needed. For years, that organization has been in a decline because they've been seen as nothing but a database. But, I digress; we can't use this evidence against him because it was obtained by breaking into an ally's military installation. We are better off-"

Before the man could finish, the President told the him to shut-up; he then had a marine turn up the volume of the TV due to a breaking report. "My God, we are just getting word that there has been a collapse at the Indian Point Power Facility. We are being told that one of the reactor's protective shells has cracked and fallen and all residents of Rockland, Orange, Westchester, Dutchess, Ulster, Fairfield, Bergen, Passaic, Litchfield – Ah forget it! Anyone within 100 miles of the plant or Westchester county should either evacuate or find a local bomb shelter." At this point, the anchor glared off screen, not caring about the fact the cameras were still rolling, and chastised the producers. "This is a national emergency where every second counts and you want me to read off each county? What are you, stupid? You son of a -"

Over the volume of the TV, the Secretaries of Energy and Homeland Security stood up in unison and said "Long night." Both men promptly left; as they left, the press secretary walked in and began strategizing about how to talk to the American people about this incident. With the Boss distracted, the DNI pulled Lambert aside and brought him out of the room. "If we listen to these guys, we won't be able to get justice for the over 5000 American, French, Palestinian, and Israeli citizens who died 5 days ago. I'm giving your division a new mission; find a way to get evidence against this Frenaux character. Fifth freedom granted."

Lambert merely nodded his head and went for the exit, not caring for a moment that the DNI couldn't possibly authorize such an order without the SecDef. As the DO for 3E headed out, the Intelligence czar looked into the War Room and motioned for the Deputy Director of the CIA to come and talk to him.

December 10, 2007

Fort Meade, Maryland

In 3E headquarters, Lambert paced furiously in front of his desk and downed cup after cup of coffee. The television's dull murmur was drowned out by his footsteps. Like a gun shot in the woods, the knock on his soundproof glass door took the Colonel out of his trance; standing with an uncharacteristic grin at the portal was General Clark. With a glance, he signaled for the leader of RAINBOW to enter. "Need any help?" the General asked politely.

With a hint of sarcasm in tone, Lambert replied "It depends. Can you raid the home of a French diplomat and get me every document and bit of information for me?"

After pausing for a moment, Clark cracked his knuckles and flexed his fingers as if stretching. "Me, personally? Nah. I do, however, know four guys who'd be willing and able."

Lambert was taken aback for a moment, and then began to grin himself.

December 10, 2007

Hereford, England

On the helipad sat two birds, a UH-60 Blackhawk and a V-22 Osprey. 20 meters away, Sam Fisher stood in black slacks and a white sports coat while the men of RAINBOW wore their respective uniforms. Ding stepped forward and extended his hand to the splinter cell. Fisher returned the gesture, giving the team leader's hand a good shake. "Next time you gentlemen are stateside, I'd be happy to buy a round or two."

"We'll keep in touch. Besides, how many people can say they saved a ninja from a concentration camp?" Ding replied.

December 10, 2007

Lyon, France

Like all laws of nature and physics, the Law of Unintended Consequences is always forgotten until it rears its head; tonight was no exception. The attacks on the power plants and the national curfew left Lyon and its suburbs a dark, empty shell. After reaching the city limits together, the Blackhawk and Osprey went their separate ways.

High above the cityscape flew the helicopter carrying the members of RAINBOW Team-2. They chopper flew low and against the wind, to maintain the element of surprise. From the cockpit, the pilot called back into the passenger compartment "ETA three minutes!"

Chavez nodded and glanced at his men, each of who were checking their equipment and giving thumbs up. "Objective in sight!" called the pilot.

In minutes, the chopper was directly over the moderate sized home of the suspected puppet master. With a quick gesture, Chavez cued the men to rappel down the rope by the sides of the helicopter. Once organized into their appropriate positions, the men quietly entered the home. Loiselle and Chavez began searching every computer and file in the house, sparing no bookshelf or desk drawer; Pierce and Vega made sure no one left or entered the house. Towards the end of the search, a gunshot was heard, along with the screams of woman from the upstairs portion of the home. Chavez sped up the stairs and made it all the way to the top of the stairwell when he narrowly missed being shot by a 12 gauge shotgun. When he peered around the corner, the team leader noticed that the source of the gunshots and the source of the screams were one in the same. After pausing a moment to think about it, the Major pulled a particular grenade from his vest and tossed it in the room. In moments, a blinding flash and loud bang quickly forced the frightened woman to the ground. Chavez then ran in and grabbed hold of the woman and nudged his teammate with boot.

Thankfully for Loiselle, the Kevlar vest he wore stopped the bullet and left him merely stunned on the ground. Once he was roused, the French RAINBOW operative spoke to the woman in her native tongue. "We're with the French authorities," he said in French. "Our captain said that this place would be empty and that we'd have free reign. In short, we think your husband may be in trouble. He refused to have the security measures installed in your home but our government insists it happen anyway. It would be best if he doesn't find out; OK?"

The shaken housewife nodded her head and went to the bedroom, clutching her robe tightly. With that distraction taken care of, the rest of the men finished their duties and left.

December 10, 2007

INTERPOL HQ, Lyon, France

On the other side of town lay the headquarters for the third largest international non-governmental organization, INTERPOL. Its building was the only one in miles that had running power, thanks to a newly installed generator system. Unlike many of Sam's previous missions, he'd walk right through the front door. In a case handcuffed to his wrist were his goggles and SC-20k (disassembled, of course); underneath the casual clothes was his spy suit and 5.7mm. He approached the security checkpoint with an ID card on his jacket that read authorized him special diplomat-level clearance; it was also nifty for by passing those pesky metal detectors and X-Ray machines. The tired guard gave the splinter cell a look over before he allowed Fisher to pass, pointing him to the appropriate elevator.

When the door closed, Sam positioned himself directly under the camera; from inside his jacket, he took out the silver-dollar sized device with his trusty OCP. At that point, he put on his gloves and unscrewed the light bulbs. In the darkness, he took off his jacket and slacks and assembled his rifle. With everything neatly put away, the splinter cell climbed the trap door on the elevator's ceiling and placed his briefcase in a safe spot. From there, he leapt to a neighboring cable and slid down the adjacent shaft to the basement. A few moments of pulling opened the door to the particular basement floor he wanted.

Fisher looked both ways before sneaking into the open. A brief look at his OPSAT confirmed that the first objective was right around the corner: the generator. By it, two technicians were speaking in French; a small gas grenade took care of them in short order. "There should be a series of levers and switches next to a large button. Go to the one on the far left," Grim stated bluntly in his ear.

"Why can't I just push the big button that says emergency stop?" Fisher asked out of mild curiosity.

"Do you want a battalion of police and firefighters busting into the building?" she retorted.

"Point taken."

In minutes, after following an appropriate sequence of lever pulls, the entire building went dark. From Sam's pocket, he withdrew a flask filled with vodka, which he poured onto and into the mouths of the men; soon after, he placed said flask in the hand of one of the unconscious workers. "Good work, Fisher. Now we just need you to get to Frenaux's office and retrieve any incriminating evidence. You'll have about a half hour before they have anyone go and restart the."

When he heard that, Sam turned around and looked at one of the diesel storage tanks, which lay right next to the generator's exhaust pipes. He fiddled around with the valves until the contents began to leak. "What are you doing?" Lambert asked.

"If they have no fuel, they won't be able to start the generator as soon. It gives me more time."

"Good thinking. You probably have another hour or so; now get on with your mission before you waste the time you just gained."

15 minutes and 120 feet later, the splinter cell was able to climb to the necessary floor; apparently the genius who built the elevator shafts neglected to install the ladder written into the blueprints. Luckily, on the other side of the sliding metal door, was nothing. The nearest reception desk was around the bend and no one was in their cubicles. Sam walked into the hall and immediately went back into the doorway when a light shined in his direction. Damn flashlights.

"Who's there?" inquired the armed guard in French. The man came within inches of the corner and was grabbed by Sam, who slammed the man into a wall, threw him on the ground and put him in a headlock. "Why are you packing so much heat to guard an administrative building?" Fisher asked.

"Ah. I don't work for INTERPOL. Monsieur Frenaux hired me," the choked man replied.

"Why does he need that kind of protection?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

"Well, OK, I might know. He's talking to someone from the American government about an upcoming piece of legislation. It has something to do with the reorganizing of INTERPOL."

"Just one more question; how many more men do you have here?"

"Eh, eight; two are with Frenaux right now."

"Merci."

In Fisher's head, he heard the 6 words he'd been waiting to hear. "Fifth freedom with our new visitors," spoke Lambert into the implant.

In a quick moment, the splinter cell knocked the merc on the head and tossed him into the elevator shaft. "Fisher, we need you to not only get those files from Frenaux's office, but we're going to listen to this conversation; hopefully we'll have a clue as to who this American is."

The rest of the hallway was quiet. Much of this portion of the building was being overhauled to have a new, upgradeable fiber optic IT network installed. Sam came upon the door of the objective's office and snaked the fiber optic cable underneath. The pale blue light from the laptop's plasma screen was the only source of light in the room. Around the table were two pacing mercenaries, each armed with FAMAS assault rifles. Instead of the VoIP phone on the desk, Frenaux was using a wireless headset. Sam opened the door ever so slightly and hacked the frequency of the headset.

"Yes, I understand, Mr. Frenaux. I can't help it though if the Speaker doesn't want to push that kind of legislation at this time. He's a stubborn guy." The voice on the other side of the line stated bluntly.

"I don't care. A deal is a deal. The United States is spared a full blown attack and in return your Congress passes the treaty. I refuse to believe that as Attorney General you have no say in law enforcement matters."

"It's not an all powerful position. Look, I have to give a presentation to the Joint Congressional Committee on the Attacks of December 5th tomorrow. Maybe the Chairman will listen to me then. I've got to go. I'll talk to you about this tomorrow."

Without a hesitation, the line went dead. "Jesus Christ…" Lambert said, frustrated, under his breath.

"I don't think it was him on the other line..."

"I'm going to report to my superiors on this. Fisher, complete your mission and exfiltrate at the parking lot."

Fisher looked back in the room and noticed that only the two mercs were left inside. He poked his gun through the crack in the door and fired a sticky camera on the far wall. From his OPSAT, Sam made it whistle loud noises to draw the attention of the armed men. As they approached the device, a container of gas was released; in seconds, the men were unconscious on the ground. After picking up the device, the splinter cell hacked into the laptop and stole any files he'd need. One quick trip to the file cabinet and he was all set. The splinter cell was about to exit the door he'd come through in but stopped when he saw it was opening. Sam swiftly darted to a dark corner and kept one hand on his pistol. In the portal was a trio of mercenaries. One turned to his comrade in the back of the formation and reported "Belloso isn't in here. Maybe your partner went upstairs."

Instead of reaching for his pistol, Sam unslung his rifle and loaded the launcher with three airfoil rounds. He took steady aim and held his breath. Thud. Thud. Thud. In seconds, all three mercs were on the ground. He collected the ring airfoils and dragged two of the bodies by the arms over to the elevator shaft. Fisher returned later with the third. Found him.

The splinter cell made his way down the elevator shaft and came upon his old briefcase. With civilian clothes on and his rifle packed away, Fisher went ahead and climbed to the nearest elevator door and opened it. On the other end was a startled mercenary, who pointed his rifle at Sam. "What the hell were you doing in that elevator shaft?" he commanded.

"The lift got stuck when the power crapped out. And I didn't feel like staying trapped in there."

He thought about it for a moment, and then decided to let Sam go.